


Until we meet again

by Maewan



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, whumptober2020
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:34:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26856028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maewan/pseuds/Maewan
Summary: Arthur's dead. He couldn't save him. He had one Destiny and he failed. With his world crashing down, what will Merlin do to survive? What if he is not the same Merlin anymore, when Arthur wakes again from sleep?
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	1. Whumptober day 6 : “Get it Out” | No More | “Stop, please”

**Author's Note:**

> After a lot of thinking, I decide to split my works regarding Whumptober. The first story is over (for now?) so here I am with prompt number six "“Get it Out” | No More | “Stop, please”" I hope you will like it ;) For now on, all my titles are the prompts I used for the daily chapter. I'll change them later.

Merlin sighed as he followed Arthur to yet another hunting trip. Why those nobles feel the need to kill innocent animals, he couldn’t tell but as the king’s manservant he must follow the prat everywhere. Oh and of course, they were alone. Arthur wanted them to be together, with no knights around for once. It’s not like Merlin could even save Uther’s son by using his magic freely. The young king still had no idea of how powerful he was, and, in all honesty, Merlin liked it that way. After all, tricking Arthur was much easier with his blond friend not knowing what was happening to him. As usual, Merlin ended up mumbling and Arthur laughed at his behaviour, calling him a girl and various flattering names.

“You know, Arthur, there is nothing bad at being a girl. I can’t decipher why you think it’s an insult.”

“That’s because you know nothing about them, Merlin. Girls are delicate things. Always in need of help from a brave knight.”

“Oh really? Says the man who got save by both Gwen and Morgana, several times if I may add,” Merlin laughed, earning a death glare from his master.

_No. Please, stop._

They were laughing together, giggling after they locked a drunker Gwaine in a cupboard, with nothing except his underwear on. Servants and guards rolled their eyes, smiling at their king’s antics. They all notice how the boy went from pompous to gentle, kind and caring. Thanks to a mere manservant. A boy born in Ealdor and with a noble heart. They rushed together in the large corridors, crashing into the king’s room and laughing on the floor.

“Merlin, you are such a bad influence!” Arthur snorted, rolling on his side so he can face Merlin. The farmer boy was still red, trying his best to find his breath between fits of laughers. “I would have never done that with my father around.”

“Your father, shall he rest in peace, was a killjoy. Plus, Gwaine deserves this. He started undressing in front of the whole tavern.”

“Remind me to never get drunk around you,” Arthur said, before collapsing on the floor for more giggles.

_No more … please. I can’t. Not anymore. Make it stop!_

“Merlin? Was that … was that magic?” a voice asked from behind. The warlock froze, turning oh so slowly. He met Arthur’s gaze, filled with betrayal. His blue eyes showed all his emotions. It was night, they were in the middle of nowhere and after a nightmare, Merlin woke and went for a walk. He never thought Arthur would follow him. The king had been fast asleep when he left their camp.

“You’re dreaming Arthur, it’s nothing but a dream. Can you imagine me, Merlin, having magic? When I can’t even lie to your face for ordinary things?” it seemed to work. Arthur significantly relaxed and laugh.

“You’re right. I guess my mind is just telling me how magic you are, to me.”

“What … what do you mean?” Merlin stuttered; eyes wide when the blond gently took his hands in his owns. Was it warm, or were his cheeks just suddenly burning? Oh, these stars had been there before, in Arthur’s eyes, or were they a new addition? Meh. This sound too romantic. Such a girl thing to think, if he quoted Arthur.

“I mean, since this is my dream, I am allowed to do this…” he murmured, leaning close until their lips touched. Merlin shivered, shock, but locked his arms around the king’s waist. Their kiss lasted forever but still not long enough. They panted, looking into each other’s souls, with a stupid smile on their lips.

_No. No. I don’t want to remember … make it turn into ashes. Please. I can’t breathe_ …

Lake Avalon. Finally. Merlin felt exhausted after carrying Arthur for so long. His king was dying, but if there were still hope, Merlin would do anything to save his master. His friend. His brother. The one he could never have or dream of. As he carefully placed his charge on the green grass, a hand blocked his movements.

“Merlin, stop, please.”

Merlin looked Arthur through tears. This was all his fault. He messed up because he thought Destiny was nothing, but a legend told by an old dragon. He picked the wrong path, the wrong options and now, the Once and Future King was dying. A gentle, bloodied hand strokes his cheek, chasing a few tears but they were quickly replaced by fresher ones. Growing weaker by the minutes, Arthur still held a certain authority and Merlin waited. Unable to talk.

“It’s not your fault. Do you understand? It’s mine, for killing Mordred’s love. It’s my mistake and … and I knew better because … because the one I love … also has magic…”

_No more. I’m begging you…_

Merlin had been crying for hours now. Arthur’s body had burned hours ago, floating on Lake Avalon and to the lands of the deceased. But still, his last words ran, echoing in the warlock’s mind.

 _“The one I love … also has magic…”_ he had said, coughing blood, his lips turning a deep red. _“I love you, Merlin. Your powers can’t change that. I… I was not dreaming … that night. When … when I kissed you. I’ve always known…”_ his eyes had seemed heavier after that, but he opened them again, saying words he never dares to think before. _“Thank you. My wish is … for you to live a long, happy life … and … and shall we meet again… I hope we will live in a time where … where I can claim loving you … in the open. To the entire world…”_

The words vanished but the warlock never stopped crying. Not when he finally stood from the ground. Not when he walked for days to the Isle of the Blessed. Not when memories of his friends’ bodies appeared in his mind, reminding him of his failure. He faced the Source, an important statue of a woman, Mother of Magic. Touching the stone, he felt her powers and begged her to help him. To kill him and save him from all these memories. Instead, she started replaying them in his mind. All the good and bad moments. His entire life revolved around that man, Arthur. She finally stopped after Arthur’s dying words and felt her burning gaze in his very soul.

“You are the product of magic, Merlin. As such, you were born with the gift of immortality. Your soul and body are bond to remain alive.”

“A gift, or a curse?” the warlock spat, feeling the Source swift with unease. Apparently, the Powerful Mother never planned for her only child to have a midlife crisis. Or whatever was happening now. “What am I supposed to do? Go one? Watch the world change, get attach to new people and then again watch them die? What’s the point?”

“The point is … one day, I don’t know when, Arthur will come back, and he’ll need your help. The kingdom is safe for now, but dangers may rise again and with them, the once and future king will be rebirth.”

“But if I can’t die … please, I’m begging you … take my memories about Arthur. Take them all. Arthur is my destiny. I’ll find him, no matter what.”

“You won’t be the same, Merlin. You need them all. Magic, memories, pains and happy moments. They make you the unique person you are. I can’t allow this.”

“Get it out!” Merlin screamed, falling on his knees in a pleading posture. His powers, controlled by his raw emotions, started acting on their own accords. They knew, just like the warlock, that a life without Arthur was not worth living. From a corner of his mind, the Source of all magic beg for him to calm down, but he couldn’t. The overwhelming pain took over and his eyes burned gold. His magic found a spell, something long forgotten, not to be used again. The words flew freely. A huge, heavy door slammed shut. Merlin fell limp.

Days later, a brunet man opened his eyes on an island. The Isle of the Blest, if he were correct. All the buildings were on the floor, mere ruins in an isolated place. He felt confused, as he thought there was a statue just here not long before. Of course, there was indeed a stoned face among the debris, but he barely showed any interest to it. What caught his attention, though, was a sword. A sword in a stone. Placing his hand on it, he felt something in his finger. Like a tickle. Something calling for him. Begging him. As soon as the curiosity came, fear overcame everything, and he stepped back. Whatever was held a prisoner under the stone, sealed with the strange sword, had to remain here.

This man’s name was Merlin, he was sure of it. He was not special. He heard legends about magic, about some supernatural powers that suddenly vanished one day. He found these legends fun. As if something like magic could ever excited. Still, one sure was certain: for an unknown reason, he never ages or die. He’d been murdered or accidentally killed several times but, every single time, he wakes again when the witching hour comes. He’s Merlin Emrys, the only immortal in the world.


	2. I've got you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During World War 2, Merlin faces many things... but what if Destiny decides it's time to make him meet with old faces from his past?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BEWARE: this chapter content mass murdering, violence, nazis, antisemitism and other TW things. Please, protect yourself if these are sensitive topics.

_Dear diary, another day had passed on the battlefield and I’m almost sad to admit we are lucky enough to have killed several Nazis. Once upon a time, I thought there was good in all people, but these men … they show me the worst in us. When the war began and we heard people were disappearing from various places in Europe, I felt both nervous and jumpy. Most time, when I was not locked in a bunker with our friends from the Resistance, I went to a small lake not far from London. The only remaining of a time when the world was pure, untouched by humans’ modernity. Whenever I went there, my eyes searched for something, someone was supposed to come. I whispered about the world needing a miracle of some sort. It never came, of course. Fun fact, I died five times since I first got involve in this war. The first few times, my men watched me like I was a ghost. Now, they just shake their heads like this was part of life. I guess they are just tired, or believe they forget to take my pulse and I come back later, with blood and mud everywhere. Earlier today, we’ve got a message from our sources. Our help is needed a few miles from München. Witnesses regarding our common enemies sent reports of what was happening in a mysterious, secretive place named Dachau. A train will take us from Angers to München and we’ll walk from there. I hope my gut feeling is misleading me, and that Death is not waiting for us there. I hope the end of this month, April 1945, will bring good news to the world._

Merlin closed his small sketchbook and rested his head on his arm. Today was April 26th and they were staring at the sky, unable to find sleep. The next day, before dawn, they all had to catch a train. If France was almost free from the occupants, they must be careful. Nazis were fleeing, acting like rats before a ship drowned.

“You’re worried?” a friend asked him, ginger hair hiding his bright blue eyes. His name was Liam, they became close friends after Merlin’s third death. “It’s not like you can die, you know. If they shoot you, you’ll just wake up with a good hang over. If I do, it’s bye-bye baby and kiss my ass! The highway to Hell.”

“You’re not going to Hell. You are brave, kind and generous.”

“I’m gay. If my family’s God is right, I’m a walking sin,” the young man snorted. He turned 23-year-old two days ago but was kicked from his parents’ house when they found out about his boyfriend. They then sent him to the army, trying to make him a ‘true man’. Whatever it was in their agenda.

“Their god can kiss my ass too,” Merlin stated. Long ago, he had been the kind of man who never swore. Never spoke in a poor manner. Things changed through time and numerous wars. He still blamed Liam for the ‘ _kiss my ass’_ part though. “Hitler deserves Hell, you, on the other hand … you’ll go home, find a cute man and adopt plenty of children.”

“I hope you’re right,” Liam said, a soft smile floating on his lips as he imagined a world in which men like him were not seen as sick. “People tend to believe we appeared from thin air. Like the flu.”

“I’ve been around for a while. Humans like us are part of nature, no matter what they say,” Merlin said, remembering all the secret lovers he met through life. Men loving men. Women loving women. People born in the wrong body. Those who loved more than one person and were sinners, according to religious people. Those who don’t experience love outside friendship or feeling the need for sex. “I had plenty of time to study the world. Over all the animal species, there are only two who show signs of homophobic behaviours. Humans, because they are stupid and just dislike what’s not like their so-called majority, and a spider. Gay couples have their own purpose. There is no accident in nature. If a lion is gay, obviously he can’t have babies with his partner … not the usual way. But straight couples can be terrible parents too. If a cub is abandoned by his parents, because it’s too weak or just they don’t want them … guess who’s gonna take care of it and raise it until it’s ready to leave?”

“The gays?” Liam said, almost stunned by the immortal words. Was this his purpose, their mission? “You believe it? And … these babies are fine?”

“Of course, they are! Children need nothing but love and a safe place. They also need the talk, but I’m sure gays and lesbians also know how babies are made.” Merlin laughed.

“Oi. I remember that conversation with my dad… He used a donut and a banana for his demonstration. Never ate those since,” Liam shivered at the memory, while Merlin laugh even harder. His amnesia served him well here since he couldn’t remember having that discussion with his parents. “And are the kids … you know … normal if homosexuals raised them?”

With another person, Merlin may have lost his temper. But he knew his friends grew up hiding himself, and then being kicked and tossed into the army when he accidentally came out. He had to fight his own prejudice, regarding his identity.

“They have legs, arms, a nose, a mouth, two eyes and the same organs as heterosexuals. Some are born girl, boy or even intersex – those are as common as ginger people, if you want to know – and some will somehow find out they were born in the wrong body.”

“That’s not what I mean…” Liam growled, “And how do you know these stuffs? I’m sure scientists are not even close to reach such statements.”

“Actually, German scientists were. Before Hitler came to power and destroyed all gender studies files. But to answer your question: if straight parents can raise homosexual kids, of course, gay couples can produce a whole new generation of heterosexuals. They may just be more open-minded. A shame, really,” Merlin adds in a mocking tone. Liam soon joined him in the muffled laughter.

“Yeah, really. The thought of understanding, caring, loving people scares me!”

“We should sleep, tomorrow’s a big day…” Merlin finally said. His best friend nodded his agreement and they slept for the remaining hours before they had to catch their train.

* * *

Merlin hated it. They spent ten hours hidden between boxes and now, his body was begging for mercy. Not long before München, his men jumped off the train and they hid together, waiting for nightfall; walking in the open was too dangerous. But they still needed food and the team sent Merlin for that mission. They all claimed he was so lucky that he will come back eventually and here he was, stumbling in the muds and praying for his sake. He was in no mood for being killed again. Not today. Nazis on the run were probably waiting for them. They had nothing to lose, for the worst of them. They were not all that bad, some were – just like them – called to a war they never wanted in the first place. But for now, these men were all potential enemies. He walked for miles, followed by the birds singing and the bees buzzing when they flew past him. That’s how he stumbled into a farm, with a family having lunch in the open. The moment one woman noticed me, she ushered people away. I noticed their fear as they all hurried inside. All except for a man who remained here, wanting for me with a gun. The closer I walked, the more I realised they were probably hiding innocents’ people. How? Because he too noticed something: my uniform does not belong to the SS or any German service. I found my suspicions were right when he used a clumsy French, to mutter the code used between people from the Resistance.

“ _Les sanglots long des violons de l’automne_ …” he said, his German accent making it sound as if he were insulting me.

“ _Blessent mon cœur d’une langueur monotone_.” Merlin answered, and he lowered his weapon with a huge smile plastered on his face. What were the odds for the immortal to find them here? It must be his lucky day. He then called for his family to come out, but they were not the only ones. The couple had three kids, two girls and a boy, who looked just like them. But there were four more people with them. A man in his mid-thirties, with short grey hair and green eyes. He looked thin but probably less than he had been when he first came here. His eyes wore the same haunted look than his comrades, two other men and a young woman. The woman looked beautiful. She had long hair, big brown eyes, and red lips. She tugged nervously at her left sleeves and, when they noticed how long they both stared at each other, one of the men stood protectively in front of her.

“Please, sit with us. We’ll tell you everything,” offered the farmer’s spouse. Merlin followed them at the table behind the house, promising to himself that he will find his friends after. Or that’s what he thought.

They were halfway through their terrible story when they heard it. Gunshots in the distance. The British man stood abruptly, barely noticing how they all fled back into the house, in safety. The farmer poked my side.

“I’m coming with you,” he grunted, and Merlin nodded. They headed toward the noise. It seemed the farm had not been that farm from their camp, or having company – even a silent one – helped a lot, because they reached the place where he left his men after barely twenty minutes, or thirty at most. Instead of their usual banters though, they were met with silence and a familiar smell. Blood. A lot of it. As well as bodies. Judging by the wounds and the fact that there was only one German soldier among the bodies, Merlin guessed he attacked from the shadow, while they were resting or relaxing. Three guys had their throat cut in one move. They had no time to scream or warn the others. Then, two others died with their guns ready, shoot right in the heart. They protected themselves and wounded the opponent. Among the victims, he found bright ginger hair and knew… Liam died, fighting for his life. He lay there, his eyes wide open and with a single tear on his cheek. If the enemy was not already dead, Merlin knew he would have killed him. If he had not stopped to talk, instead of just asking food and leave … he could have protected them. They did not deserve this.

“I’m so sorry … it’s my fault…” Merlin whispered, closing their eyes one-by-one. He murmured words from an ancient language, one he had none since forever, sending them to a peaceful land, where only the braves were allowed. Where they were ripped off their darker side and find peace with their loved ones. Where the evil ones were not allowed if their purpose in life had been to hurt people for no reasons. Still, three guys were missing and probably alive. Merlin searched for them, with the farmer watching their backs. They found them in the trees for one, a bush for another and between rocks for the last. When they noticed him, they lowered their weapons and sighed, relieved.

“Merlin! We’re glad you’re not dead!” screamed one, pulling him into a tight hug. “With your luck, you’ll die when we need you the most!”

“Who’s that?” asked another, pointing to the man with him

“Gentlemen, please meet Adrian. Well, his name used to be Adolf, but he changed it recently, for obvious reasons,” Merlin introduced their help.

“No shit, nice to meet you, not-Adolf.”

“You too,” muttered the older man, leading them to their farm.

They talked a lot more here, about what they had to do now. First, Merlin and his friends borrowed shovels and buried their friends, at least until they can honour them with a proper funeral. They had dinner. They learned about others where the troops walking to Dachau were to meet the next day. That night, they slept in warm beds and ate well. Merlin still experimented strange dreams Though and woke more than once with a strange feeling. Like he experienced a war before, one he erased from his memories but wanted to remember. He loses someone important, not like Liam … far more precious. Except he had not been a warrior then. Merely a spectator. Whenever he tried to grasp these memories, these painful dreams, they slipped like smoke between his fingers, leaving him with a hole in his chest and more questions. The next morning, Merlin was up early and met with the young lady from yesterday. Her name was Freya and we had breakfast together. She arrived here two years ago and after months hiding in the basement, she acted as the couple’s niece from Berlin. Her mother had been an English teacher but, when anti-Jews laws appeared, she loses her job and got reaped with her family. They were sent to Dachau, marked with numbers on their arm, and if they were unfit to work or help in any way, killed. Freya never said how they were killed, but Merlin already pictured the worst scenarios.

“I’ll go with you. To the camp,” Freya spoke after a moment. Merlin’s eyes widened in shock, not quite believing what he just heard. “I was in nurses’ school before, I went here with my family, let me help. Please.” A fire was burning inside her. Such confidence in such a small body. Merlin wondered if he was falling for that young woman. She went through Hell and still, she now wanted to come back and see the end of what cause her so much hurt.

“You are an adult; I can’t decide for you. If you’re ready to face them, to see whatever’s waiting for us, I won’t stop you.” Merlin knew he used the right words. While in Dachau, Freya had been ripped from her free will, from freedom itself. Now, Merlin just gave it back and she kissed his cheek.

“Thank you. You’re still a good man, _after all this time_.”

Merlin frowned, wondering what she meant and almost questioned her. Alas, the others arrived then, and their discussion died. Had they met before? No. He had not set foot in Germany in a while.

* * *

Once they met with their comrades from the USA and the UK, they walked for another two or three hours. 14 kilometres. They had vehicles too, of course, but these were stuffed with materials and the nurses, Freya included. In the distance, they noticed the first sign of what happened. A trail of bodies leading them to the camp. These people were forced to walk to their death. Weakened, sick, exhausted, Nazis forced them to walk or die. Or both. When a corpse was on their way, the allies took them and placed them on the side. They’ll come back for them later. Each step felt weight the horror waiting behind Dachau’s door. The first thing Merlin’s notice was the huge Nazi’s sign topping the door. He wanted nothing more than burn it. Then the way said doors were hanging, moving with the wind. They were unlocked and the immortal gulped. This can’t be good. The jeeps stopped and they marched inside. More than one man or woman had to cover their mouth or turn around to puke. Here, in the middle of the courtyard, were bodies. Piled like potatoes sacks, they lay motionless, with a whole behind their neck. Executions screamed the wounds. These skeletons covered with flesh did not stand a chance. Then, a strange smell caught Merlin and he cough.

“What’s that?” he asked, sharing a confused look with the others. They knew what corpsed smelled like, and what they were experiencing now felt different. More dread filled Merlin, what was coming next? Standing next to him, Freya gave the oblivious warlock her cryptic answer.

“The ovens. Where you go after they said it was time to shower,” she murmured, her voice failing her for a moment. She was scared, shaking, but still she stood with them. When she noted how confused they were, she continued, and Merlin fell even more for her. She was stronger than she seemed. “If we were too frail, if we showed them weakness, they would send us to the ‘ _shower_ ’ as they called it. Some were directed here the moment they got off the train, like young kids, mothers, or elderly people.”

While men were already searching camps for survivors or German to take as prisoners, Freya showed him the way. She guided him to the so-called showers but waited outside while he walked in. The trauma probably prevented her from stepping a foot inside in case the door closed and trapped them. There was enough room for fifty peoples, more if they packed them. Merlin heard his footsteps, and Freya’s voice.

“At first, people believed them and were eager to take a shower, especially when they had been parked for days in a train, like animals. Then, we, outsiders, heard their screams. We never knew what came out of these, but it killed them, and we had to collect their bodies and carry them to the ovens. The smell, it’s humans’ bodies. You get use to it after some time. It’s awful, right? Claiming I’m no longer bothered by burning flesh?” she asked, “I was glad whenever they called someone’s name to come here … what kind of monster am I? I was happy, because at least, my turn had not come yet.”

Merlin hurried beside the younger woman and made her look at him in the eyes. She had every right to break down. She was back where she endured the worst but never, ever, she could think of her as a monster.

“No. Listen to me,” he commanded, “Listen!” he ordered when the brunet struggled in his arms. “They were the monsters, and they will pay for it. You are a victim and your thoughts are nothing but a coping mechanism. You had to survive and honestly, did you ever wish for these innocents to die?”

“No… No, I … I never wanted to…” she sobbed, clinging to his shirt.

“Want to hear what I think of it?”

Freya nodded, still not leaving him.

“I think you were just glad because you were still alive, and it’s ok. It’s human. But you were also happy because, no matter how awful these showers were, you knew their suffering was almost over. You knew they’d be in peace soon, and it comforted you.” Gently, Merlin whipped her tears and kissed both her cheeks. His words seemed to work, there was the ghost of a smile on her lips. It was not reaching her eyes, but they can’t expect much here. “Come, let’s go help the others.”

This will busy their minds with something else than horrendous memories. Afternoon led to evening, the sun set when they reached a couple of barracks and then, they heard that noise. A cry came from a corner, muffled by covers and rags. They froze, staring at each other.

“Did you hear that?” Freya murmured, unsure.

“Yeah,” he whispered back. The almost-nurse pushed the door, probably remembering times when she slept here with fellow prisoners. They passed many beds, all empty except for a thin blank for the lucky ones. There were clothes with blood, ripped in strips. Probably for when women were having their periods. As she noticed his gaze, Freya sighed.

“We used to dead’s cloth to make those. Many women stopped menstruating here. I don’t know if it’s the lack of food, sleep deprivation or something else, but we worried it may never come back, even if we were free one day. Still, some teenagers started bleeding after they came to Dachau. We told them what it was.”

They stopped taking again, the crying starting over. Gun in hand – even if he doubt it was necessary – Merlin pushed a broken bed and found a bundle of blanket safely hidden underneath. The two adults gasped, tears forming in their eyes, for a baby was there, alive and in good shape.

“Freya, old my gun please,” Merlin said, feeling a strange bond between him and the child. The woman picked the deadly weapon while Merlin collected the child. He was maybe a few weeks old, his little arm already tattooed with a number. Their eyes met for a moment and the baby stopped crying, mesmerised by the soldier.

“Merlin, look,” Freya pointed to a piece of paper, stuck in the blankets. Merlin took it and read the trembling words. They were from the new-born’s mum. In French, but he translated them for Freya.

_I don’t believe in God. Not anymore. Not what after we endured here. My name is Sofia, I’ve been reaped with my husband six months ago and my baby survived. My little boy was born here, surrounded by Death. As I’m writing these words, soldiers are calling for us to meet in the courtyard. I heard them lately. They say allies are coming. People who will save us. If this is true, I may be dead in a couple of hours, minutes even. They won’t let us survive but, as a mother, I have a duty. My child will live. He will grow up and become an amazing man. I don’t believe in God, but if there is a saviour, please come and find my baby. Tell him his mum and dad loved him, that we were, like many people, young and innocents. Tell him hate is useless, it only led to more pain. Hatred is easy, every idiot can put his anger on someone and hurt them for stupid reasons. To love, even when you’ve been tortured and ripped from your identity is what makes you strong. Tell him these words, help him become the best version of himself. His name is Gaius, and he was and will always be loved_.

Merlin whipped his eyes with the back of his hands. That woman seemed amazing. Even in her last moments, when she knew she was probably going to die, she still shared a last message of kindness for her baby. She begged for her boy to show compassion, even to those who will hurt in the future.

“Hello Gaius, it’s so nice to you meet…” Merlin said, and he felt like he already knew the baby. Like they met before, in another life. “You are a miracle. I can’t believe you’re still alive…” Gaius held his finger in a firm grasp, not letting go of it. “I’m Merlin, I’m going to protect you. You have my word…”

In the cold night, they found the troops in a building, sitting around a fire and studying various documents left by the Nazi. Those that did not burn before they escaped. All of them gasped when they noticed the baby. The all wanted to hold him, whispering kind words and repeating Merlin’s and Freya’s words, that he was a miracle. The only place Gaius slept in, though, was whenever Merlin or Freya were holding him, carrying his small body against their beating heart. Their troops separate in two the next day. Some were heading to Austria, trying to catch the ones taken to a death walk and the others collecting information on the victims left behind. They placed all the bodies in line, took pictures – they had, for History purpose – and noted their tattoos. At first, they were all shocked, then, they just dealt with it. On the second day, the three men that escaped with Freya came too and helped them. They were not the most talkative men, but they felt that duty to honour the fallen. In fact, there was a new man with them and when he appeared, clean, healthy, and rather out of place, Merlin had a strange feeling. He knew that face too … they have met before. The soldier was merely a boy, maybe twenty something with jet-black hair, blue eyes and a roundness that belongs to children’s faces. A name popped in Merlin’s mind: _Mordred_. He didn’t know how, but he knew it and felt like pulling Freya closer when he saw how she ran to the boy and hugged him. That’s probably what stopped all British and Americans alike to put the man at gunshot.

“Freya? Who’s that?” Merlin asked, sending a careful glare to the man. He was not a violent man but, whenever he faced him, memories of a blond dying soldier threatened to submerge him. He was a threat.

“Merlin, please me Mordred Engelmann,” she said, frowning when she heard Merlin’s snort.

“Fun name, for someone like him. How dare you come back here? Where you did nothing to protect these people?” the immortal felt wild anger rose in his body. He knew in another time; something would have allowed him to kill the man on spot. His hands took hold of the German’s collar, but Freya pushed him back.

“Merlin, stop. Mordred’s not like them. He’s the reason I’m alive. He made us escape when he could! He took care of us, the way he was not supposed to.”

Merlin looked the man in the eyes. There was shame, of course, but also truth and … was it hope? Hope for redemption? His questions came to a halt when he heard the younger man’s question. Mordred opened his mouth and, strange enough, his English sounded perfect.

“Did you find him? The baby?”

“You…”

“Yes. I… I was the one who gathered the women from his barracks. I gave the paper and pen to his mum … and we hid him together. I just hoped he’d survive until you came.” He whispered, disgust toward him clear on his face. Merlin knew he wished he could have done more. “Is he alive?” Merlin nodded curtly. “May I see him?”

Freya acted faster than Merlin, pulling Mordred toward the building, where baby Miracle – as they call him between them – was asleep. The former warlock followed close behind, studying the man’s moves. His blue eyes filled with fondness and relief. Something one does not expect from a man who used to work here. Later on, Mordred even show them where he hid important documents before the grand departure, helping them put names on some victims’ faces. Gaius’ mother included, to Merlin’s dismay. What caught Merlin’s attention was the one with all the names of the Nazis’ involved in experiments on people. Alive or not. Mordred genuinely pointed all of them and offered his help in tracking them so they can face justice.

* * *

Months had passed since that day in Dachau, when he faced the worst in humanity. He was back in his home in England, but he did not come alone. Freya followed him and with her, little Gaius who was now old enough to crawl on the floor and babble in a cute way. Mordred moved to the UK too, with the better half of his family. The British ones. He now worked as a social worker, helping orphans and endangered children in finding a new home. From the enemy, he became the caretaker, proving Merlin there was nothing off about him.

“Dada! Dada!”

His daydream stopped at the cute little voice. Gaius waited patiently at his foot, pulling at his leg while repeating the simple word. A look at the clock informed him of Freya’s homecoming in thirty minutes.

“Yes, baby? Do you want to surprise mum at school?”

“Dada!” squealed the boy, nuzzling his father the moment he ended in his arms.

“Let’s go then. Mummy, yeah!”

“Yiiiiiih!”

They were happy together. The future seemed bright, with a son and a soon-to-be wife by his side. The thought made him smile like an idiot. Him. Married. What were the odds? The best part was that, for once, he couldn’t care less about his immortality getting in the way.


	3. Don't say goodbye.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their 30th anniversary, Freya takes a decision that may change Merlin's life forever. Is he ready to face his past, or is he just going to shut it down once again? And who is that girl dating Gaius?

They grew old together. Or most likely, Freya looked older while Merlin was still the same. Even with his use of tricks, people couldn’t miss how younger he looked beside his wife and, of course, people were gossiping. _Oh, look at that young fellow, escorting his mum to the dance_. _Oh, another diamond’s digger, he wants the poor lady’s gold_. Merlin loved her all the same, even when Freya started feeling self-conscious. Tonight was a big event and Merlin would not let people interfere with their happiness. They had been married for thirty years, together since they met during the war, no one would be allowed to spoil them from their happiness.

“C’mon, love. The taxi’s waiting,” he said, wrapping his arms around Freya and claiming another kiss from her. She laughed but did not seem content. “What is it?” Merlin asked, feeling worried.

“I don’t feel like going out … all these people, they’ll think you’re a…”

“A man deeply in love with his wonderful, beautiful and so amazing wife? Then, they’ll be right. If they have nothing better to do, like paying attention to their company, it’s not our problem to worry about.” Merlin said, as he caressed Freya’s cheek, she leaned to the touch and nodded. “You want to go?” Merlin still questioned, as he never forced the woman to anything. Not now, not ever.

“I’ll do anything with you, you know it.”

“And so do I, I’ll even die for you,” he joked.

“Not that you actually can,” Freya teased him back and they both shared a laugh, cut short by a man’s voice. Their son, Gaius, who turned thirty a few weeks ago.

“Mum, dad, just go! I know the night is long but…”

“But that girlfriend of yours is waiting in her car, and you really need us to go so she can come in?” Merlin said, earning a horrified glance from their blushing son, and an amused giggle from Freya. “What? You thought we did not notice your eagerness whenever we planned a night out?”

“Actually, Merlin love, I recall I was the one who told you,” Freya added, raising an eyebrow in a ‘don’t mess with me’ look.

‘Really?” Merlin pretended to doubt her words, but he smiled softly. “I guess you’re right. Still. Gaius, remember to act like a proper gentleman. Serve her food first, don’t kiss her without her consent and if she drinks more than a glass of wine, drive her home. Don’t let her take a cab, strange things are happening now, and we don’t want to risk her life.”

“Dad!” Gaius whined, sounding like the child he used to be.

“Oh and there are condoms in your bedside. Even if I do hope you are not a horny creature and can wait until after your wedding.”

“PAPA!” Gaius now screamed, his face a deep shade of red as he hid it with his hands.

“Merlin, stop tormenting our boy,” Freya chastised her immortal husband. “He knows the rules and how to threat a woman.”

“We can’t remind him enough, can we?” Merlin wondered, “Ok. Ok. Let’s go. I’m sure the poor girl is freezing.”

Gaius visibly relaxed and hugged them both. In six months, he will be a doctor, like his parents. They never pressured him in such a carrier but when he had been old enough to understand his early life, Gaius had decided to help people, to save lives as a payment for the ones watching after him from above. Many died and he survived … for them, he will save humans without judgement or prejudice regarding whom they were, their religions or orientations. They were so proud of the man he became.

“I love you,” he whispered and the ushered them to the door.

“We love you too,” they both said, waving as they headed to their car. Still, Merlin couldn’t help but make a quick detour to a vehicle parked close to theirs. He knocked at the window and chuckled when the woman inside literally jumped on her sit. Thanks to some make up and fake white hair, Merlin looked close to his wife age – or not as young as he was – so she probably never questioned what he told her. Or it was because she flustered and wished to vanish. “Good night, Milady. Gaius is all yours until midnight, you’ll see, he made his favourite recipe, learned from my dear Freya. Have fun!”

When he joined his wife in the car, she sent him a glare and after a minute, they both laughed.

“You had to scare the poor girl, aren’t you?”

“What do you want? We, immortals, had to take little pleasures when they are at reach. Plus, I’m sure she’s a future ‘ _Mrs Emrys’_. I like her.”

Freya said nothing but she truly wished the best for their son. Of course, Gaius had no memories from their times in death camp, but he still had enough suffering for a life. Until now, his relationship never lasted long, mostly because their boy wanted to protect their secret but he deserved his happy life. Merlin even planned to vanish, if it helped Gaius. The boy always refused, claiming that one day, he will find the one. The one with whom sharing their darkest secret would be fine. He had been courting that woman for a couple of months now, they all hoped she would stay around and accompany Gaius on the long road of life.

At the restaurant, Merlin held a hand to Freya as he helped her sit on her chair, before placing himself facing her. Tensed at first, the older-looking woman soon forgot the stares and they laughed, shared stories from their past and all the happy times they had. Gaius’ first steps, in their apartments in London. The day she graduated from nurses’ school, with the photograph still in their living room as a testimony that, even if you travelled trouble waters, happiness was waiting for you at the corner. Their wedding day, with so many people they couldn’t even count. Mordred had been there for a couple of years, but he vanished after their son’s fifth birthday. People who went to Dachau too, and were now like family. People who – Freya learned it that day, as Merlin never took credits for his good deeds – the man helped hide. Entire families were still alive because Merlin existed. As they talked about it, Merlin blushed again and waved it off, claiming he just did what numerous people managed to do in that time.

“Maybe, but you’re the only one with a legend attaches to him,” Freya said, taking his cold hand in her warmer one. “Children and grandchildren know the story of an un-aging angel sent to protect us. A man without weapons, asking for peace instead of violence. The one who found a baby and raised him as his own son.”

“I’m no angel. I killed people too, when I had to.”

“And? Angels are warriors too. They have flaming swords and all kinds of weapons. Merlin, you are their saviour, our hero. You deserve this. Don’t you see their smiles whenever we visit them? You think they believe you, when you tell them you’re just a parent with their Merlin?”

“Why not?” Merlin asked, nervously playing with his food. He felt like he did not fit the part. He failed at saving so many friends … but the one death he felt the most ashamed of, he could not even remember it. Even in his nightmares, the scene vanished the moment he opened his eyes.

“They love you, that’s all I wanted to say,” Freya spoke and they continued their dinner. For dessert, they ordered something simple, chocolate cake with vanilla ice cream, as it held found memories for them. When they first moved back here together, they went to a park and shared an ice cream. The same night, Merlin made a cake for his beloved and surprised her when, as time passed, he surprised her when he cooked dinner for the family most of the time. With her school, Merlin had known how tired she had been and spared her the charge of a house. More than once, he had laughed at what her spouse’s friends told her. They often asked if they could borrow hum to teach their husbands; every single time, Freya told them her better half was not for sale. “You think Gaius will kiss her tonight?” Freya asked after a while.

“If he doesn’t, I kick him from the house. It’s been what … eight months? We never waited that long!”

“We met in different circumstances. Things go faster during a war. And if I’m correct, you were still a virgin when we met … how old were you then? A thousand and four hundred years old? More or less? Gaius’s still in time.”

“Very funny.” Merlin muttered. He knew he should not have told her about this. Of course, she would use it against him in moments like these.

“And you were so cute the first time, so clumsy! I still remember you falling off the bed!”

“Shh, Freya please!” Merlin squealed, remembering all too well what happened that night. They were on the boat taking them to their honeymoon in Spain, alone, without Gaius for the first time in months – Mordred had babysat him – and Merlin wanted the night to be special for them. Before their union, he had studied many books and asked some friend about what he should know for his first time with Freya, and at all in fact. Mordred, for instance, had watched him with wide eyes before he broke with laughers but then share some insightful knowledge with him. Some colleagues helped him too and told him to relax. Still, when the night came he worried he may hurt Freya and after load of cuddling, when he rolled on top of his beautiful wife, he went too far and fell on the floor. The young maid had laughed for a good fifteen minutes, with a pouting – naked – Merlin on the pavement. “I wish I could forget that night…” he mumbled, the shame still burning his soul.

“I held found memories from then. I loved you even more, knowing it happened because you cared. Most men, even now but more in our time, would have thought of their pleasure, not mine. I’m lucky I met you.”

“I still think it happened because we were on a boat, and the roll made me lose my balance.”

“If you think so, my love … if you say so…” Freya chuckled.

The night went smoothly. After dinner, they head to a dance’s event and twirled together, eyes into eyes, until they couldn’t notice the people around them. Nothing existed beside the two and their radiating love. In that moment, Freya felt like the young bride again and Merlin saw the way she smiled, the sparkles in her eyes. She was so perfect, like a diamond he had been lucky enough to hold all these years. Around noon, the placed closed and they stopped dancing. Like Cinderella, their time had expired and they had to go home.

“I wish that night never ends…” whispered Freya. “Take me to the Lake, please?” there was a feeling of urgency in her voice, Merlin noticed, but he said nothing and drove to the peaceful place. The first time they came as a family, Merlin noticed something in Freya’s stance and look. When he asked what the matter was, she said nothing, staring at the calm water. Still, they started coming each week as a ritual. Tonight though, something felt wrong. When they reached their usual spot, Freya turned around and took his hand. Her eyes shimmered in the moon light and the older man worried.

“Freya? What’s wrong?”

“You don’t remember, do you?” she asked, “The first time we came here together?”

“Of course, I do! We were with Gaius and…”

“No. The first time, we were alone. Together. We ran in hope of a new life, with a lake and mountains surrounding us. We wanted a new place, where people like us were not hunted down for what they were…” she whispered, silently begging him to remember. But remember what? “You erased your own memories in the fifth, early sixth century, after Arthur died. Long after I died too, and you sent us all here, in Avalon, as we waited to meet again.”

“What…? No. So what? You think I’m like… Merlin as in Merlin and King Arthur? It’s crazy. I lose my memories because a building fell on me. Magic never existed!” Merlin said, a bubble of anguish forming in his chest. If it were true, why was he so scared? Why did he always feel hollow near the lake? Like he was mourning someone? No. Legends. King Arthur and Camelot belonged to myths. “Why are you doing this? Why tonight?” he begged, his head starting to hurt as something tried to pierce through his skull.

“The Goddess think it’s time for you to realise what you’ve lost. She sent me back to this world, she made us meet again and … oh how much I love you. Time never altered our feelings. But you need to stop. You need to bring back magic and Camelot. Just look, we are all coming back. Mordred. Me. Gaius. The others will be born again soon … please. I’m begging you…”

Merlin watched her with eyes filled with pain and worry. Images started playing, submerging him like a wave contained for too long. His boy tensed. Freya, loving Freya, knelt beside him and gently patted his back.

“Let them come, my love…” she soothed with kind words. “Let them come and guide you to the Source…”

_The Source. Source of all magic. Arthur. Death. NO!_

Merlin’s mind shut all the memories. He locked them even more behind his walls. Confused, Merlin looked up from where he fell, with Freya watching him closely.

“Excuse me. What were we saying?” he asked, the conversation forgotten with everything related to his first life.

“I told you that place seems magical. I’m sure there are fairies hidden somewhere,” Freya said, knowing pushing her husband more was useless. Merlin did not want to remember. Even after all that time, his soul still had not healed from Arthur’s death. The wound was too deep, and never healed properly since the warlock refused to face the memories, good or not. “Hold me close for now…” she wanted to enjoy every moment, as the clock ticked to the end of their story. She had planned everything … ever since she feared she won’t be enough to make the warlock remember. When they came home that night, Freya watched Merlin’s peaceful sleep for hours. At three in the morning, she stood and got dress. At three thirty, she placed a letter on the fireplace, under the family’s portray. At three forty-five, she closed the door and never came back.

* * *

The morning after, Merlin opened his eyes to an empty place beside him. It surprised him, since Freya had always enjoyed extra sleep but he yawned and headed to the kitchen, where he found Gaius with a coffee in front of him, and a smile on his face. His date probably went well, and the proud father decided not to mess with his boy today.

“Have you seen your mother?” he asked after he swallowed his toast.

“No. Wasn’t she with you?” Gaius worried. “She’s probably in town; let’s look for a note,” he offered and they started searching for something. Merlin was in his office when Gaius knocked at the door. He looked pale, a letter in hand, and gave it to him. Thinking of it, Gaius seemed like the epitome of an abandoned child. Quickly, Merlin read the words and his world fell apart.

_My love,_

_I can’t tell you how sorry I am for leaving you like this. My years with you were among the happiest I ever had and for that, I will always be thankful. When we met for the first time, I was scared, I felt like I was a beast, cursed for something I never asked for. Cursed for being me, a victim of the system. With you, I saw the light field from the sky and … and I knew I deserved to be happy. I’m proud to say I had been your wife in this life, and I know that one day, you’ll find the missing piece fulfilling your heart._

_Long ago, you told me you were immortal and I never questioned this. I didn’t because of reasons I can’t share at the moment… I also know you don’t mind people and their gossips, but no matter what, I’m freeing you, Merlin. Please, take care of Gaius and don’t waste your time looking for me. I love you. I love you so much there are no words strong enough to describe it. I hope that one day, you will remember your past and embrace it with open arms. I love you, my dear boys, remember me. ▬ Freya, mum._

“Gaius, take your coat, she can’t be far!” Merlin ordered, already putting a jacket on. Her son complied and they both hurried outside. They asked the neighbourhood, the policemen touring their district, the milk’s deliveryman. No one had seen or heard of Freya.

“Dad, what about the lake?” Gaius said. They were at a café, after hours searching the town. Merlin’s head snapped up. How could he forget the lake? They went there just the previous day. Both men ran toward their place.

“Freya!”

“Mum!”

“Freya can you hear me?!”

“Mum, please come back!”

They circled the lake together. Gaius one side, Merlin the others. Nothing. Not even a misplaced item to lead them. They almost wished they found something, even if it meant the beloved woman had drowned under water. Days turned into weeks. Weeks into months. Enough time passed to see Gaius introducing young Alice to his dad. A lovely lass with brown hair and chocolate’s eyes. It turned out she was one of these people, who loved mysteries and legends and when they told her about Merlin’s secret, she accepted him without questions. Afterwards, she asked a lot of them, obviously, but never when Merlin was in a bad day. Those happened each year, when it had been another 365 days without his Freya. He just gazed into emptiness for hours, not even acknowledging his family. But today, Alice had no choice but disturb the man. Gently, she placed her hand on his shoulder and pulled him from his dark thoughts.

“Merlin? A word, please,” she asked, they sat with Gaius on the couch, while he remained glued to his chair.

“Dad, we have good news,” Gaius said, beaming with pure happiness. “We are expecting a baby, a girl. Alice is pregnant!”

This brings the first real smile Merlin had in years. Laughing, he stood and held his son and Alice, the daughter he never had. “Congratulations! I’m so happy for you! When are you due, dear?”

“July, the 15th. We are so excited!”

“You already have names?” Merlin asked, curious now.

“Actually, yes,” Gaius said, still smiling and holding his wife’s hand. The two were so in love, it warmed the hearts.

“Hunith, and Freya for second.”

“Oh…” Merlin whispered. He could not say more, his emotions were overwhelming. A mix of happy and sad fighting inside him. “I… I love it.”

Months later, when he met his granddaughter, Merlin loved her right away. Freya left without a proper goodbye but now, there was this new life he welcomed with an open heart. His wife had been right, when she said happiness will always find her way to their lives.

“Hello Hunith, I’m your grandpa…” he whispered, the first time he held her. For a curious reason, he felt like laughing when he said these words. As if there was some sort of inside jokes happening. “I will always love and protect you.”

_I’m so glad we meet again. I missed you, so much. I won’t abandon you this time. Please forgive me. Are the others coming too?_

Unknowingly to Merlin, something in his soul clicked; something awoke when his subconscious realised his loved one were coming back to him. That day, Merlin started aging again.


	4. For the greater good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not a fan of this chapter, let's me honest, but it's almost midnight and I'm too lazy to do better.

When they noticed his slow changes, the Emrys family had been stunned. What caused him to age again, slightly faster than his own son? One day, he had been Merlin, the goofy young man. The next, he woke up looking like a forty-year-old man. Another week passed, and he looked around forty-five. Until one day he presented a sixty-year-old grandpa. Old enough to be who he was: a father and grandfather to young Hunith. For an obscure reason, no one in the district seemed to notice the change. They still saluted him by a quick “Morning, mister Emrys”, they still ask for advice when someone got sick in their family, and they even told him he looked younger by the day. Which was fun, because he clearly did not. With his wrinkles, he felt like by now, Freya and himself could do the pair. With a sigh, the man left his couch and headed toward the door and outside, where he collected the mails. Most were just adverting for the local shops and then, there was this envelop. Brown with a delicate calligraphy on it. The letter was addressed to both Merlin and Gaius Emrys. At the moment, Gaius and Alice were at work and the old man babysat his granddaughter. Hunith was currently playing in the main room. Short after her birth, the family moved back to the countryside, in the house Merlin owned since forever. To the local, they were just the descendant of a long last lineage finally coming back to their birth land. From the window, Merlin watched the goats jumping and running. Today was a beautiful, sunny day.

“Hunith, love,” he said, chuckling when the six-months-old stopped her games, her mouth forming a perfect ‘o’ with biscuits leftovers all over her face. “Do you want to go for a walk?”

“Meeeeh Meeeh!” she half scream and giggled.

“Yes, you can pet the baby goats. But not before we clean your face. You look like a little piggy. Where is my beautiful baby girl?” Merlin teased, and the girl’s soft laugh erupted. Hunith was laughing all the time, like most kids should if they were as lucky as his granddaughter. With a wet towel, Merlin whipped her face from all the food left and they headed outside. For those who believed the UK was in a perpetual bad weather, today could definitely prove them wrong. The moment they stepped outside; various animals ran toward them in a cacophony of attention whoring beasts. Hunith had eyes for the baby goats only and giggled when one managed to lick her little feet. Unknown cats and their babies appeared too. From the distance, they heard their horse, named Lancelot. When Merlin asked his daughter-in-law when she picked that name, she just said it was fun, since he was a Merlin, to have a Lancelot around. In fact, if he had not stopped her with the Arthurian’s naming, half their animals would have such names by now. Together, first and third generation sat in the grass. Merlin smiled. The little one was so advanced compared to the others. With his help, she already tried to stand and laughed when she succeeded. At this rate, she may even talk before she turns one-year-old. Together, they enjoyed their time and Merlin cherished all the memories. With him aging again, he knew that one day, he would have to say goodbye. That knowledge pushed him to share his numerous stories with the baby. From the time he woke up on an abandoned island, with no memories, to his life with his spouse and all the happiness afterwards.

“You are so loved, baby. This world is a hard place to live in, but one day, I’m sure you can change the world. You’ll find someone you love and, if you want, build a family with them. You can even stay single if you want, because love is not just about romance, but friendships too. Friends are so important; they are the family you chose. They keep you safe and sometimes, they are a real pain. Trust me,” Merlin laughed, the vague memory of a group of men flashing for a second. “And even if it doesn’t last, you have to cherish their memories, as they helped make you the way you are now.”

_How ironic_ , though a voice in a corner of his mind, making the former immortal frowned. _Don’t be a fool, Merlin, you know deep down that you never followed your own advice. You forgot them all_.

Was his conscience having a conscience? With his luck, probably. He was that kind of man. Immortal for centuries. Suddenly not that much, when he held Hunith for the first time. Now, of course, he had to debate with himself about the same past he forgot for a reason or another. Still, Merlin crawled back into reality when he heard a car coming their way. From afar, he recognised Alice’s car and so did Hunith. The child clapped her hands and rolled on the grass while laughing. Whenever he heard her, Merlin felt the world becoming purer. The weight on his shoulders lifted, leaving him with a smile and no worries. From the driveway and between the trees, the familiar grey car appeared and parked under the old oak. From the driver sit came Alice and Gaius from the passenger’s. Lately, Gaius started growing his hair slightly more and they now reached his shoulders in small waves. Merlin guessed this was so kind of new fashion among young people. He was becoming too old for these things.

“Dad,” Gaius acknowledged him, picking his daughter to kiss her on the cheek. “How was the day?”

“Good, she’s an angel, as usual. Yours?”

“Alice had to sex up a teen penis’ after he stuck it in a soda can.”

“I wonder how we, as humans, can still exist with such specimens around,” Merlin laughed. How in hell did that kid thought it a great idea? Why, in the first place, people with penises felt like putting their wee bird everywhere? “Anyway… do you want something to eat or drink? I was bored when Hunith napped and made a cake. Also, a letter came for us, I waited to open it.”

As a family they entered their home. Alice collapsed on the couch and hugged her daughter. Working women were not that common in the area and there was a lot of judgement from time to time. Merlin guessed harsh words had been spoken to his daughter-in-law by the way she held her baby. In a possessive and yet calming manner. Probably feeling her mother’s turmoil, Hunith started babbling cutely and playing with Alice’s hands while the men set the food and tea on the table. They talked and laughed together while they ate.

“So, what about that letter?”

“Oh, right!” Merlin stood and took it from where he left it earlier. They opened it with a knife and Gaius started reading. Whatever was written made him pale as he handed the paper to his father. Just like on the envelope, the writing was delicate, from the same person – nothing surprising here – but what was inside made Merlin feel dizzy and hopeful.

_I know where is Freya Emrys. Come to the Isle of Rum. I’ll wait for you._

“The Isle of Rum?” Merlin murmured with a gut feeling. If he were right, and he certainly was, this was the name given to the former Isle of the Blessed. Where he opened his eyes as a new Merlin. The one place he swore he would never go back to. According to the old legends, the Isle was a portal to the land of Avalon, just like the lake in London. Funny, right? That was the reason he couldn’t even trust the old stories. How two distant places were meant to belong to the same land? It was like telling King’s Cross was both in London and Dublin. Stupid.

“You know that place? You think it’s serious?”

“I… I went here, once,” Merlin explained. “A long time ago. Way before I met your mother. When the roman’s expansion was a thing. There’s a strange energy around the place. Coming from a sword trapped in stone… no, Alice, don’t start with King Arthur again.”

“Well, the sword thing is quite obvious. You can’t deny it,” Alice answered. “Plus, what’s so bad with the legend? Some people just don’t care about it but you… you almost seem afraid. You’re a brave man, Merlin. You fought in wars we can’t even imagine, you faced Death more time than any humans… I just can’t believe mere _fairy tales_ can scare you.”

From the corner of his eyes, Merlin noticed his son’s smirk. He knew the young man always wondered the same things as he grew up. He always noticed how Merlin flinch when the legends were mentioned. Which happened often, with a name like his. His family started wondering, after some time, if there were not some sort of correlation between the myth and his reaction. Just like Alice now. Still, if Freya had been seen near the Island or even on it – for what reasons, he wondered – he had to go. Even a small chance was more than enough. Even if it meant leaving his family for a while. As usual, Gaius knew what was on his mind before he spoke and he heard him talk.

“I’m going with you. It’s mum.”

“We leave in three days. Alice, you can find someone to babysit Hunith? I guess you don’t want to skip work, and I understand.”

“Don’t worry. Go find my mother-in-law,” she whispered, smiling at the two hopeful men.

* * *

Three days later, the two Emrys’ left their home and took a train to Mallaig and then booked a boat. They charged as much food as possible before heading to the island. When they made their route plan to the life saver, the men had been surprised. No one ever visited that place because of the dangerous waters surrounding it, except for the last week, when a woman took the same route. In a glance, both men thought Freya had been the woman and they kept that thought in mind while they navigate toward their destination. The more they went into water, the more waves became stronger and stronger. They almost fell in deep waters more than once but, by some miracles, they made it in a couple of hours and attached their boat to a pontoon. The moment they set foot to the ground, something switched in the air. Gaius frowned at his surroundings.

“It seems familiar…” he whispered. “We never travelled here together, not even when I was little?” Gaius asked, the feeling growing stronger as they speak. Merlin did not answer though. His blue eyes we widen. He too was fighting that emotion. He felt anger and sadness mix in a dangerous cocktail, ready to explode at the first spark of fire. He saw a man, waiting for him behind a door. Like a ghost he stood there, not able to cross that wall between them. He needed him but feared what may come with that person.

_Two faces of the same coin_ … growled a deep voice inside the former warlock. Two faces? Who was the second face? That blond man? The soldier with a sad smile and slight disappointment written on his features?

“Dad?” asked Gaius worried voice. “Are you okay?”

Merlin shook his head, attempting a poor smile. He had not escaped that place for so long for no reasons. The mere thought of the sword, that cursed item lost and forgotten somewhere between the now huge forest and crumpled stones made him shiver. What if nothing had changed? Why in all the kingdoms on Earth and above had Freya decided to come here?

“Yes, sorry my dear boy. It’s just this place. It gives me the creep,” Merlin admitted, and he soon heard his son mutter a quick ‘language’, as his parents did to him in his early years. “We travelled a long way today… it’s time to sleep. I’ll set up camp and…”

“Dad, you’re old now. I can do it.”

“I can do it too, Arthur,” Merlin growled, quickly realising what he said. “Gaius. I meant Gaius.” Why did he…? And why did he almost call his son ‘prat’ like a forgotten habit with someone else? Were they memories? He knew he should not have come here in the first place. If it were not for his loving wife… well, with ‘if’ one can change the world. With Gaius, they set up camp for the night and for the first time, they slept together in the wild. Merlin always hated nights out. He always feared bandits were coming for them, mercenaries, even when the world changed enough for them to vanish in the cities.

Had not he been so tired, Merlin would have heard someone’s feet brushing against the cold green grass. He would have noticed a white hand pull a tissue on his son’s face, with enough drug to make the young doctor sleep soundly. He may even have shown surprise when the frail figure picked the biggest man with no effort before dragging him in the darkest part of the wood, deliberately leaving a trail to lead him the next morning. He missed everything, until the sun rise.

* * *

The young woman gently placed Gaius on the altar, where people of the Old Religion used to practise sacrifices long ago. The world has changed though. If magic was to come back, there won’t be such killing anymore… except if they have a chance to go back to their time. Where they had a chance to start over and change the world. Even in that case, she knew Merlin would look after all magic users with a careful eye and play with the rules. He was, after all, their king. In a way. Long ago, they were enemies. Before that, they had been close friends. A spell put on her twisted everything and turned her into a monster but now, with help coming from Avalon and time to heal, the witch felt more like herself again. Of course, Uther betrayal still hurt, but not as much as a world without magic. Yes. Morgana was back on her track and she’ll do whatever it takes to save them and allow Arthur back in the living world. She knew of Freya’s failed attempt near lake Avalon, when Merlin almost remembered but shut everything the moment Arthur’s death started submerging him again. She knew how his magic’s leftover vanished the same day his soon-to-be mother was reborn, leading the man to the land of the dead. Should he die, naturally or not, before he regained his memories and magic… and even before his mother met once more Balinor and got pregnant… he may never come back again. That’s why they were in a hurry.

“I won’t hurt you, Gaius. I know I did in the past, but I’m me again. I am the Morgana Pendragon who loves her brother and care for her friend. I just need your help for a couple of hours…” she whispered, wearing the same green dress she offended arbour in her life. “I waited for so long… just like Merlin and Mordred, I travelled through ages. I don’t know why we survived like this. I guess the Source banned Mordred and I from Avalon because we committed many crimes. It was our punishment… and when Merlin banned magic, it gave us a second chance. We often met with Mordred. He’s a good man now. He bought a farm in Ireland; he is waiting for a sign and will join us eventually. He was there when they found you in Dachau. I was too. A nurse, but no one noticed me. Except Freya, of course. I sent the letter to Merlin, telling him about the camp so he can meet us and save you.”

She continued her tale. Words flooding from her mouth and she never noticed Gaius was now awake. The young man was watching her, still groggy but focused. At least, she missed his stare until he whispered words she had not heard in a long time.

“Lady Morgana…” there was no hatred, fear or resentment in him. Just curiosity. “Am I dreaming?”

“No. You’re not. The Source is so close it makes people like us remember who they were in the past. Well, for those who died and came back,” the lady explained, pointing to a perfectly clean sword. It shone under the moon, like time never altered it for one minute. “My guess is, if you touch the sword, you will remember everything. But it’s up to you.”

“Wait… wait… why did you take me here? Where’s my dad?” Gaius asked, sliding back to his current life.

“I needed a bait, so he will come here. I’m sorry. I know he is scared of the past. But he needs to remember. We need him. The Once and Future King is waiting. He’s ready to rise, I dreamed about it… he’s waiting because without them, Albion will burn. The world will burn and all the people, men, women and children will too.”

Gaius knew, for an unknown reason, that the woman was telling the truth. He had many questions but for an answer, Morgana guided him to the sword. Something tickled his finger when he seized the hilt and pulled. The weapon did not even budge but still, he felt a burning wave rose and screamed. Memories rushed into his mind. The first time he met Merlin, as an old physician. The way the boy always got into trouble with young Prince Arthur. That time he almost got burn to protect his ward. Hunith worried letters, the way she missed her son. Wait… so now… he was his surrogate son’s son… and Hunith was his son’s granddaughter? Headache. In chaotic orders, he even remembered his first mother. The time Merlin told him about Freya, the lady of the Lake. The day Alice died in his first life; except they never had a child. When Balinor left Camelot, after the Great Dragon had been captured. Morgana, slowly turning to an evil creature, unlike the woman she was now. He remembered everything and when he looked up, tears were blurring his vision.

“I’m so happy to see you again, Milady,” he bowed, but the woman shook her head.

“I am the one who need to do this. I have harmed you so much and now, I need your help to trick Merlin into taking back the sword.”

“How, if I may ask?” this time, even Morgana noticed the change between the memory-less and memory-filled man.

“I’ll have to be like Morgause’s puppet again. I’ll have to pretend to kill you.”

* * *

Merlin ran between the trees. His legs hurt but he awoke at a scream from afar. His son’s yell of pain and he couldn’t handle it. As he rushed between the trees, getting closer to where he knew the sword was, memories harassed him.

_“I’ve been training my whole life to kill people.”_

_“Oh, and how long I’ve you been training to be a prat?”_

No. No don’t come back. I don’t want you.

_“You can’t talk to me like that!”_

_“Sorry. I meant, how long I’ve you been training to be a prat, Milord.”_

Their friendship started here. Later on, after a few months, Arthur had admitted he teased him that day, just to see if he would change his behaviour after knowing he was the crown prince. When he remained the same, part of him already enjoy that side of his future manservant, since most people were pretending whenever they faced royalty. With a violent slam, Merlin muted the memories again, but the fight was harder with all his wild emotions. Gaius was hurt. He had to find him.

_He was no longer in the woods. He was in Ealdor and his mother, Hunith, was dying_ … no. No. Hunith was his granddaughter… wait… mother… or? He remembered the day she was born, and he thought it was funny to call her his grandchild. Was it because she had given birth to him in another life?

With full force, Merlin stumbled into a clearing and froze. There stood the sword, still in the stone, but what caught his eyes were the two people here. A woman waited with a wicked smile. She had a knife in her hand, one like those used in the old times. Tied to the stone was Gaius, his eyes wide with fear.

“Dad!”

“Be quiet, or I’ll kill you faster,” warned the woman. Gaius already had blood on his face, which made Merlin furious. “Now, Merlin. We meet again…”

“I… do I know you?” he asked, his voice shaking.

“Of course, you do. You tried to kill me, and failed, obviously,” she mocked. He heard her voice before… he knew it for sure.

_“Merlin, stay back!”_ _a man yelled, standing in front of him as a shield. The witch arrived, cloaked in black clothes and with a dark sword in hand. Everything from her posture to her glare asked for blood._

_“Merlin? Can you please ask Gaius for more potion? My nightmares are back and I can’t seem to sleep.”_ _The same lady asked, but with kindness and he felt like liking her. Calling her a friend._

“You have a choice to make, Emrys. Pull the sword, free you and us all… or watch your son die. I’m sure his blood won’t be enough to bring magic back, but it will satisfy me.”

“No, please! Please take me instead!” he begged, fear paralysing him on spot. A part of him wanted to run, grad the sword and do whatever the woman want but something else, the side who got hurt before what caused him to lose his memories fought against the mere idea. “I’ll do everything!”

Not happy with his answer, Morgana – how did he know her name? – lifted her arms, aiming for Gaius’s heart. Time slowed down at that moment. His body reacted on instinct. His left hand closed around the sword hilt, the one he fled for so long… he felt energy course in his arm and body. The blade slide like a knight in butter. Golden light erupted from the stone and his eyes burned with the same energy.

“Gaius, run!” he screamed, the ropes falling by a simple wave of his hand. He did not even watch; he knew his son always followed his orders. At all time, even when they were disagreeing on things. In front of him, of them, the old temple started returning to his former appearance. Huge doors appeared, made with heavy wood and stones from Avalon. “Morgana. I thought I warned you… don’t touch my family, ever again…” he was not Merlin anymore, for now, he was Emrys and his fury threatened to burn his enemy. “Magic is banned from these lands. I don’t care about the world. I don’t care about the people. I gave everything for a prophecy and it gave me nothing but pain. Now, just leave me to what’s left of my life or I will kill you. Understood?”

“And what about Arthur?” Morgana asked, tears rolling on her pale cheeks. “Please, I want to see my brother again, to do the right things.”

“Arthur is dead. It’s time to grow up and stop believing in fairy tales. The dead are not coming back… he won’t just rise from the lake,” Merlin whispered, his heart bleeding like it did thousands of years ago. “Farewell, Morgana.”

One last time, Merlin used his magic to transport both him, Gaius and the stone and swords to their house. He put a spell on his family, erasing all their memories of a trip or even a letter. He did the same thing to Morgana, to Mordred, to all the people involved in their story. The warlock just forgot one thing: he didn’t know Gaius had retrieved his memories from Camelot so he couldn’t erase them in the process. Deep in their house basement, in a room they never used, Merlin placed the stone and watch Excalibur. What if Morgana was right? What if Arthur had been on his way? No. _She just played her usual trick_ … he decided and with a gasp, he put the sword back where it belonged, in the heart of all magic. He felt the void where his memories vanished again. He felt the pain in his heart. He felt like dying when he went to bed.

_Oh Merlin… what have you done?_


	5. They look so pretty when they bleed

Years had passed since Gaius and Merlin’s trip to the Isle of the Blessed. While Merlin forgot everything with the spell he cast once more, Gaius remembered everything about his previous life and started writing everything down with the help of his dear Alice. For a few years at least … before Hunith 15th birthday, Alice shown worrying symptoms and they found she had a stage 4 cancer, with no cure at the moment. Magic could have healed her, but the gift was still banned and Merlin’s memories locked. She died less than six months later and left her broken family behind. Just like when she died in Camelot times, except they were able to say goodbye this time. The next year, Hunith met her first boyfriend – and last – Balinor Dragon. He was a lord from an ancient family, someone important, with money and titles while they were ordinary people. When she invited him for the first time, Merlin loved the boy immediately. Just like when he held his granddaughter after she was born, something connected and he decided he loved the young man. Gaius felt the same way, he found out as they talked together later. They were proven right when, during their second year in College, both Balinor and Hunith came during a week-end and asked for their blessing. They wanted to get married and if the Lord’s family seemed fine with the idea, they still insisted on a certain code: including asking the maid’s parents. When they said ‘yes’, Merlin felt his heart beat faster. He knew something was coming. He felt like his memories wanted – more than ever – to come back and claim him. Unknowingly to the now 78-year-old, Excalibur started calling for him.

You are running out of time, Emrys…

Merlin shook his head. He needed to focus. Hunith was waiting for him, in her beautiful white dress. Today was the big day and he, Merlin, had been chosen to take her arm. The beautiful woman, proud owner of a linguistic degree, inhaled deeply.

“I’m so nervous, grandpa… I know I’m doing the right thing but … but I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life and even more. Am I crazy?” she worried. “Am I a Bridezilla?”

Merlin laughed, taking her white hands in his wrinkled ones.

“When I married Freya, I felt the same way. I almost collapsed before she walked down the aisle. Still, I knew I belonged to her,” he explained. “Find your courage in his eyes. You’re sharing the same heart, the same love. He’s probably panicking too and having the same discussion with his parents. Breathe in and out, ok? In and out.”

Freya mimicked him and finally calmed.

“Ready?”

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

Merlin smiled and led her outside her room. They went down the staircase, where the car waited for them. As cliché as it was, the Lords had their own church where they both knew people were sitting patiently inside the old religious place. It looked different though, as if it belonged to another cult than the monotheist ones all over the world. Everything felt familiar and stunning.

A simple wave from Merlin and they heard the music. Hunith tightened her grip on her grandfather, their steps matching and she noticed, once she felt brave enough to look up, the way Balinor looked at her. Adoration. Love. Promises. In her bedridden eyes she felt like an angel. Together, they can fight the world and even more.

The ceremony went smoothly and another couple of years passed. Three to be precise. Merlin felt tired and headed to bed early. Him and Gaius were the only ones left in the big house, but tonight, his son was away. He received a call for an emergency. A woman, Miss Pendragon, had been in labour for twelve long hours now and her child started showing signs endangering its life. Pendragon … the same seemed familiar. Was she related to Uther Pendragon? He remembered seeing that name in the news, after his divorce. The man cheated on his wife, Ygraine, and when she found out, she asked for both their house in the countryside and enough money to raise their … child. Oh! She definitely was the one in labour now!

“I guess I’ll have to wait for the gossips, then…” Merlin sighed, his eyes falling shut and he landed in the dreamland. Most of the time, his nightly adventures were simple. About things he did or said during the day … but not now. No. He stood in a clearing and, facing him, where a man covered in blood and a sword in the stone. Excalibur, he knew it.

“Merlin, please, help me…” the man whispered. Arthur. His name was Arthur and … and he loved him. So much that it almost killed him the first time. He wanted to hold him, crush him in a hug … but he died. Because of him. Because he failed. “Stop it now. You did your best and now, you can save me.”

“How?” Merlin whispered. He couldn’t question his king, even if everything was just a dream, he felt like that man belong to him. They were…

_The two faces of a same coin_ … whispered the same voice he heard before.

“Free my sword. Unlock magic, so I shall be born again,” he begged. “Look at you. You’re fading too!”

Merlin lowered his gaze and realised he had been bleeding too. There were no wounds. The blood just sweated from his skin in huge quantity. He vaguely remembered the same thing happening a long time ago, before he loses – or erased – his memories. He almost died because a dangerous item prevented him from doing something as natural as breathing to him. The knowledge was there, waiting, but he couldn’t find the key.

“Excalibur is the key, Merlin. Come. Claim it.”

In the clearing, Merlin started moving. Something was pulling him, a siren’s lament. In the house, the elderly figure left his bed and found his way down the stair. The same trail of blood followed him into the darkest part of the manor. The wound he created when he banned magic for the second time was now pouring outside his body. Once, manacles with magic repealing runes almost killed him … he was now enduring the same thing, but because of his own doing. The Child of Magic banned what he was made of, it was time to pay. To keep the Goddess on their side, she demanded a sacrifice but now, Merlin felt like paying it. The closer he got to the sword – dreamlike or not – the more he regained his memories in a chronological order. His hand closed around the cold hilt. This is it. He was about to free magic. He was about to allow Arthur back to these lands, because the world now needed him the most. Or will do, in the near future. Only one thought kept circling his mind. Arthur won’t be dead anymore.

_“I hope we will live in a time where I can claim loving you, in the open. To the world.”_ He had said before he left. If things were far from perfect, mentality were changing for the best. Just like they wished. Another good reason to open that box. What if they were allowed to enjoy a new life while bringing back what was lost because of his fears?

The sword opposed no resistance, magic started pushing violently on the burning metal. Golden light started filling the clearing and the forgotten room. The weapon left his hand, levitating in the room for a moment, pointed to his heart. The sacrifice needed to bring back Arthur.

“Of course…” he whispered. The sword pierced through him but went right to his magic. Like a bomb, the source of his power exploded. His old body felt to the ground. Excalibur vanished for now, to where it will wait for its time.

Simultaneously, while Magic left Merlin’s mortal body, two babies inhaled air. They screamed in two different chambers in the same hospital. Arthur Pendragon and Merlin Dragon were reborn together with no knowledge of their future. For now.


	6. A Broken Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It took them six years to find each others. It took one night for young Arthur Pendragon's life to fell apart and met that strange child named Merlin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya! So I forgot to post yesterday so... I just mixed 11th and 12th prompt together. I hope you'll like it ;)

Arthur had been running as fast as he could since his mother told him to. For the last four years, they had been happy and free together. He knew things were dirty before, when he was a baby … mum often told him not to talk to strangers, or to a man named Uther Pendragon, his father and the one person in all his nightmares. When he had been two, Uther came to their house and tried to knock the door off. He screamed. He scared them both. Mum and him. Since then, Ygraine made sure he remembered the man’s face so he can run if he ever appeared again and … he did. He did just this evening. Mum, Morgana – a friend – and Arthur had been having dinner together when he appeared and screamed scary things to them. He was drunk, mama had said, and pointing a gun in their direction. One minute, they had been laughing, happy like they used to be … the next, he felt Morgana push him off the way just in time. But not fast enough … his mother fell to the ground. He saw her. He saw the blood on her lips, the same lips that kissed him good night every day. He heard her, only her, when she whispered a soft “run” before life left her body. He knew what Death means. Her grandmama passed last year. Death was a long sleep, where you meet all the people you love and never come back. He heard his own terrified scream as he started running. Mama ordered him to go. If the bad man Uther was to come back, he had to run like in school, when they were playing chasing with his friends. Another shot makes him shiver. What if Morgana was dead too? The mere thought made him cry in silent, his vision now blurred with unshed tears. What if they were both gone? What if he was alone? Would the policemen send him with his father, while all his mother even wanted was keeping him away from the bad man?

“Mama…” he sobbed, screaming when he noticed blood on his hand. Was it … does it belong to…? Arthur desperate yelp turned into agony as he scratched his hands against trees, plants, rocks, whatever he saw to clean his mother’s blood from him. It hurt. He knew he cried louder the more he bruised himself. He knew this was bad, but he would rather have his own blood on him than his mum’s. “Mama … you promised…” he sobbed, now walking without a place to stay. Trees were surrounding him from all parts. His loving mother just died. He was an orphan, like in Oliver Twist. Except mum had been rich. Not that it mattered. Does dead people need money…? He wondered, stumbling on his own feet and head first to the ground.

He did not notice until then, but hours had passed since the attack. He had walked all night; the blood was now dry on his small hands and his eyes fell heavily. Still on the ground with half his face covered with dirt and leaves, he just realised something with blue eyes and black hair was watching him. Even if it looked like a cat – because of its general look – Arthur knew the thing was a child, around his age.

“Are you dead?” the boy asked casually. Arthur cried even more, curling into a ball. Only now did the stranger seemed to notice he had been rude. Or not helping at least. Before he could say a word, the strange boy left, running somewhere else.

Arthur sobbed harder. He thought he was safe, but the only human he met was a strange little boy. One that just left him here for the wolves. Were there wolves here? What if they ate him? What if they wanted an Arthurian’s sandwich? His mind wandered off for what … minutes … hours … days? No. Just minutes, he guessed when he heard voices coming his way, the weird included.

“See dad, I told you! He’s dying just like miss Kitty!” he chirped, clearly proud to show he had been right. Anyhow, the man ordered the boy to run to the house and ask ‘mum’ to call the medics and police. From excited, the child turned to serious. After a last glare, he hurried before them already screaming aloud: “ _MOMMY! DAD SAID CALL POLICE AND DOCTORS_!” Arthur knew no more. He felt darkness claimed him and for once, he did not fight him.

Merlin knew Death was no fun at all. He did not even know why he asked this so bluntly when he found the other little boy. He just did, and quickly warned his dad. He watched when the medics came and the many questions the policemen asked. He listened to his grandpa Gaius and his mummy, talking about a ‘terrific event’ some distance away, where a woman had been killed, before her former husband was killed by another lady who had been there. Said woman arrived right before the police. She introduced herself as Morgana Blessed and Merlin thought it was a funny name for a liar. Why a liar? He just felt like the lady had many secrets. Just like grandpa Gaius, who now sat with the lady in a corner where he had no luck in spying them. Anytime he walked closer to them, they just stopped talking.

“He’s alone?” Merlin asked after both the blond child and Morgana had left. “Where will he go?”

“A social worker is going to find him a new home,” Hunith explained to her worried son.

“Are you going to die too?” Merlin questioned; fear clear in his voice. “Is dada gonna kill you too and be bad?”

“No, of course not, baby,” they both said, soothing their son’s fears with kind words. “Arthur’s father had … deep issues. He blamed other peoples for his own misery and … and he couldn’t stand the idea of his ex-wife raising their son alone. Even if it were for Arthur’s sake,” Balinor said, even when he wanted nothing more than share what he truly believed. Uther was the biggest piece of shit he ever heard of and he clearly deserved to die. The only thing was that now, a boy ended up orphan because of it.

“I don’t understand, daddy … you love mummy and mummy loves you, right?”

“Yes,” Balinor said, “I love her more every day.”

“Why doesn’t Uther love Ygraine anymore then? Mummies and daddies must love forever.”

“It’s not that easy. Some people are … they just … think you show love by hurting the ones close to you,” Hunith tried to explain, with no good results if Merlin’s face was any indication.

“It’s stupid! If you hurt when you love, you’re doing it wrong!”

Nervous laughers answered him. He was definitely too young for this conversation. The mere notion of abuse in a relationship felt strange and so wrong. After all, Merlin had been surrounded by love since day one. Not only from his parents, but from Gaius too or the ice-cream lady.

Later that night, Merlin sat anxiously in his bed. They had not heard from Arthur since he had been taken to the hospital. Was he dead or alive? Merlin wondered but chose to hope for the best option. He played nervously with his hands for a couple of minutes, barely moving when his father sat on his bed, a question look asking what he was doing still up.

“Dad, can you adopt Arthur? He deserves to be happy too. Maybe I find him because he must stay with us? Please?”


	7. Breath in, breathou out

Merlin sat anxiously in their car. A couple of days had passed since they first met Arthur and now, they were heading to the hospital together. The lady Morgana dialled his mum and told them Arthur was alive and ready to have visitors. Still, one thing was bothering the little boy… Arthur was going to live with that woman. He hated her. He found Arthur and he wanted him to stay with them, in their domain with plenty of rooms and even ONE domestic! Since his parents told him the news, Merlin had been pouting on his sit and mumbling about life being unfair. His parent’s chatters broke the silence until they parked not far from the hospital. Merlin jumped from the vehicle and took his father’s hand from one side, his mother’s from the other. They walked together to a desk where a kind woman shows them to where Arthur’s room was. In an attempt to ease the boy’s fears, they let him stay in the children service, where Merlin stopped for a moment, next to an activity room filled with various sick kids of all ages. A teenager with long brown hair and sparkling eyes. He was playing guitar before he noticed his new spectator and wink to him.

_There was music there in the derriere_

_Like a language that we all could understand_

_I remember the day that I earned my first pay_

_When I played in a small pick-up band_

_There I spent my youth, and to tell you the truth_

_I was sad to leave it all behind me_

_For I learned about life, and I found a wife_

_In the town I loved so well_

Merlin blushed when the older boy knelt in front of him. Something was happening … they both felt it. Merlin wanted to cry, because he missed this boy so much … and it was stupid, because they never met!

_But when I returned, how my eyes have burned_

_To see how a town could be brought to its knees_

_By the armoured cars and the bombed-out bars_

_And the gas that hangs on to every breeze_

_Now the army’s installed by that old gas-yard wall_

_And the damned barbed wire gets higher and higher_

_With their tanks and their guns, oh my God, what have they done_

_To the town I loved so well_

_Now the music’s gone but they carry on_

_For their spirits been bruised, never broken_

_They will not forget but their hearts are set_

_On tomorrow and peace once again_

_For what’s done is done and what’s won is won_

_And what’s lost is lost and gone for ever_

_I can only pray for a bright, brand new day_

_In the town I love so well_

Scenes from a long-forgotten battle made him shiver and Merlin stepped back. These were from his nightmares, the one he had since forever. The ones he talked of with his grandpa Gaius, who never judge him or call him crazy. He shared them with his parents too, and they sent him to a doctor. A kind man who let him draw on many papers. The other day, he drew a big Dragon with yellow scales! His name was… Kikigarah!

“Merlin, what’s wrong?” his mother’s called and Merlin shook his head. If he started being weird again, the doctor will make him take yucky medicine. Instead, the boy smile and pointed to the musician.

“I like music! Can he play for Arthur?” he asked, and notice how the teenager chuckled when Merlin made decision without asking him first.

“Who is Arthur?” the stranger asked, standing again so he can greet young Merlin parents properly. From his place, Merlin still wondered where he met that boy before. “I’m Gwaine, I play for the kids when I don’t have school,” he explained.

_“What’s that smell?” a huge man asked, and an older Merlin stared at the direction the smell came from._

_“Gwaine! Pull these feet of your back into your boots! We’re all going to die!” he yelled, throwing a rock at him._

_“Ouch! It hurts!” the Gwaine from the fake world._

_“Well, you hurt our noses!”_

The moment vanished. What if it were true, Merlin wondered? He had to protect Arthur from dangerous scent. Just in case. Maybe with some tissues or with a hug, so he can hide his face in his hair and smell his shampoo. His favourite with strawberries and apples!

“Arthur is my friend!” Merlin claimed, “He does not know it yet, that’s all!”

Both adults and Gwaine laughed at the claim. Still, the little boy was not done yet. Gwaine asked who Arthur was and, of course, he had a duty to be as precise as possible.

“His bad daddy killed his mummy and now, he’s hurt. But my mum and dad are nice and kiss a lot! It’s not all parents, I promise!” he said, “And Morgana killed the bad daddy, so now Arthur is safe and I want to…”

“Merlin, stop. You can’t tell these things to Gwaine. You’ll make him uncomfortable.” Balinor said. Merlin lowered his head and whispered a quick ‘sorry’. He just wanted to answer properly, and as a six-year-old, he didn’t realise some things were private. Except his parents’ bedroom. He knew not to break in when there were giggles from his parents in it. They were trying to make him a little sister, even if Merlin couldn’t fathom how laughing in a bedroom was going to help them. Maybe they did not know they had to ask Santa. Instead of rummaging his thoughts, Merlin took off when he noticed chamber number 28, where Arthur was supposedly waiting for them. With a happy squeal, Merlin pushed the door open and barely avoid colliding with Morgana. The beautiful woman laughed when she saw him but earned nothing from Merlin, except a disdainful glare.

“I don’t like you,” the child murmured. He turned his gaze to the bed, where Arthur blinked lazily. “You’re awake!” Merlin yelped, not even noticing he was the one who woke the other boy. There was a strange mask on his face, making him look like a fish but the oblivious child just ignores it as he sat on the bed.

“Hi Arthur! I’m Merlin! You remember me?”

Arthur nodded, still slightly confused. He stopped crying about his mum a couple of days ago, but he never expected to meet Merlin again. Still, he seemed more friendly than strange now, and it eased the blond orphan. Merlin acted as a friend and with no such thing as pity in his eyes.

“Dada told me you’re going to live with Morgana. If you don’t want, just tell me so I adopt you! I can! I just have to write it on a paper!”

“I… I like ‘Gana…” Arthur whispered, confused by Merlin’s words. He also felt touch by the way the brunet kindly offered to give him a new home.

“What? But … but she’s _old_!” Merlin pointed, like it was some huge con. Only then did he notice all the adults were staring at them with a mix of annoyance and amusement. “Can you all go outside, please? It’s between and Arthur and I! Except Gwaine, we want the music!” he ordered. The ‘olds’ laughed, not even bothered by how Merlin talked because they knew he was a good child deep inside. Gwaine took a sit next to the two six-year-old with his guitar still in hands.

“You know, kids, I think we are quite the trio,” the teenage boy laughed. “Arthur, Merlin and Gwaine, all from the round table. Do you want a song about King Arthur and his merry companions?”

“The merry companions are with Robin Hood!” the two kids corrected, exchanging a smile while Merlin cuddled with Arthur. Merlin who was always so scared around other kids most of the time, felt at home here.

“So, this is a song about King Arthur and his Queen, Guinevere.”

“I don’t like it,” Merlin pouted.

“You did not even let me start!”

“Arthur loves Merlin and Merlin loves Arthur. Like mummy and daddy,” the younger boy claimed. “Grandpa Gaius says it’s okay for boys to love boys and girls love girls. Grandpa is always right. I say Merlin and Arthur are married!”

Behind him, Arthur blushed. Merlin realised he probably think the wrong things and they both turned red while Gwaine laughed. In another life, the teenager would have teased them but now, he just shook his head and let his finger started a lullaby about a beloved King and his lands. A land of magic, with mighty knights and flying dragons. It took a minute before Merlin’s rubbed his eyes and sucked his thumb. Arthur started dozing off too, his breathing slowing down under his oxygen mask. The one he wore since he first came here and struggled to breathe with his broken ribs.

Gwaine smiled at the two sleeping forms. Something inside him wanted to protect these children, like an older brother. Arthur, with his bruises covered body. Merlin and his good nature. With much care, the teenager left the room, where he met the adults.

“They fell asleep. I uh… I should go home. I have works to do … well … uh … goodbye?” Gwaine murmured.

“It was nice meeting you, Gwaine. Feel free to come again later,” offered the woman he thought was Arthur’s guardian. Morgana, was it?

“I will,” he promised with a bright smile.

They were all going to meet again. Maybe not now. Maybe in a couple of weeks, months or years. He felt like something was about to happen. A change they all needed. Something about Merlin and Arthur, even if they were far too young to change the world.


	8. Into the unknown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt number 14 : Fire / 15 : Possession (yes, I'm awfully late, sorry)

“Arthur, is something burning?” Merlin asked as he stepped into the kitchen. They both turned 16 the previous day and, of course, spent the evening together watching a movie. After what happened a decade ago now, the two boys had been best friends.

Morgana moved with her new charge in a different house – avoiding Arthur the trauma of going back to where his mother died – and the two boys started going to school together. From bullied kid, Merlin became the one you should not touch. With Arthur by his side, no one dared to mock him ever again, because a certain blond child always stepped and protect him. They were close. More than friends or brothers. There was no more “Merlin” or “Arthur” apart, they acted as one single entity. From his spot, Arthur looked dumbfound, a spoon in hand and a pout forming on his lips.

“I wanted to make breakfast,” he mumbled, his gaze going to the floor.

“But you can’t even cook if your life depends of it! Step back,” Merlin scolded, grabbing a towel. “How can you set eggs on fire?! It’s … I don’t understand.” The boy rolled his eyes, extinguishing flames and burned food.

“But I felt like I could succeed today,” Arthur explained, still clearly unhappy with himself and his friend, who was now making fun of him. Merlin could not stop laughing.

“Feelings are not enough, you know? You are good at many things, but cooking is not one of them. I’m glad you try, but you’re just going to poison us. Let me do this,” Merlin chuckled.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw Arthur sat at the table. Merlin grabbed the cereals box, bowls and milk before joining his best friend. They always ate together, before the adults join them. They needed their moment together. A time when they can mess around. A moment when they touch hands and smile as they eat. Once again, the teenagers intertwined their fingers innocently. In the last decade, not a week had passed without them eating while touching hands in a way or another. Every weekend, the boys were spending the night either at the Dragon’s place or at Arthur’s, if their homework were done before they leave. A problem for Arthur, who just hated school… not so much for Merlin.

“Merlin, do you believe in reincarnation?” Arthur suddenly asked, after a moment of silence. Merlin looked up; his brows furrowed.

“Why? Do you?” Merlin asked, biting back a laugh. Arthur always called him dreamy, with his strange ideas or the way he escaped the real world by drawing new worlds on paper. Arthur, on the other hand, acted like the more realistic young man. Ergo, the brunet never ever imagined Morgana’s ward like a believer of an afterlife. For a minute, Merlin remained silent. His lost gaze focused on his cereals spiralling in the milk. Actually, a long time ago, even before they met, he dreamed more than once that he shared a life – a very long one – in which he loses people he loved. A painful life, filled with magic and he loved it, but with so much hurt that he never wanted to get back here. Not ever.

“Merlin?” Arthur worried voice asked. Their eyes met, and the slightly younger boy noticed he had been silent for too long. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. It’s just a weird question. Can you imagine… living a life, over and over again, losing people you love, in an infinite circle?” Merlin whispered, a wave of fear growing in him. “I’d rather die once and for all.”

“Even if we meet again?” Arthur asked, “And we spend all our time together?”

Merlin closed his eyes, acting like he was in pain. Arthur worried. What was happening? His fear grew when a knife flew from one side of the room to the other, missing Merlin from an inch. No. Not missing him, actually, judging by the scratch and the blood dripping on the teenager’s cheek. Merlin barely flinch, his eyes still closed and his lips moving fast.

“Merlin!”

Steps hurried into the corridor after he screamed his friend’s name. Both Hunith and Balinor rushed into the room. When he noticed the knife plunged into the wall, the Lord watched the two boys. One fearing whatever was happening – Arthur – and the other kind of stuck in some dark place he never wanted to see before.

“Did Merlin attack you?” Hunith asked, since the weapon was right behind the blond teen. “Merlin, Merlin dear, can you hear us?” the mother asked. Her son kept mumbling, even when she reached for him. “Balinor, it’s just like when he was little…” she whispered, clearly scared.

“What? But Merlin never…” Arthur mumbled. He would have remembered if his friend did things like this before.

“It happened before you met. Actually, it stopped when he found you…” Balinor explained, and realised at the same time. “I’ll call Gaius. He’s the only one who can calm him enough…”

“What is he saying?” Arthur wondered, left alone with Hunith. The second mother he found here, while Morgana acted more like an older sister for him. A sister who never seemed to age, he noticed a couple of years ago.

“We don’t know. He’s talking too fast,” she said.

Right then, Merlin’s eyes flew open but they scared the people in the room. Instead of their usual blue, his pupils were bright gold and the scream from his lungs forced them to take a couple of steps back. A simple word, but strong and filled with such despair they wanted nothing more than assure him everything would be alright.

“NO!”

“Merlin. Merlin, I’m here!” Arthur broke from his surprise, placing his arms around his friend. Was he possessed by some ancient spirits? In their embrace, Arthur heard clearly now the words circling from his Merlin’s lips.

“Arthur, don’t die. Don’t leave me. Arthur, don’t die. Don’t leave me.”

“I’m right here, Merlin, I’m not going anywhere…” Arthur answered in the same tone. One where no one else could listen to their secrets. “You’re safe. I’m safe. The only dangers around are my cooking skills.” He continued, rubbing Merlin’s back with his thumb. “Please, come back to me. I’m sorry if I triggered something you buried inside yourself. I won’t do it again. Not if you are scared. Focus on my voice, nothing else…”

The smaller body relaxed again him. When he pulled back, Merlin was still staring at him with golden eyes, but with sparks of blue in them. When he talked, his voice sounded much older and he addressed them in a strange way. Even for Merlin. First, he looked at Hunith and smiled sadly: “Mother, I’m glad you are so happy in this life…” then, Balinor – back from his call – who looked alarmed by the sudden change in his son: “Father. I’m sorry I did not save you the first time.”, then, finally, his eyes met Arthur’s again: “I’m glad you’re no longer a prat, _My Lord_ ,” he said, in a mocking tone. Arthur chuckled, a part of him understanding the joke behind the words. “Please, help me. I did something terrible. You need to find me. The real me, before it’s too late…”

Arthur wanted to ask more. Before his words formed, Merlin felt limp in his arms. The moment ceased and left him, them, with even more questions. Had they not witnessed everything, both Arthur and the family may have sent the teenage boy to a psychiatrist but even them knew something happened. Something like… magic.


End file.
